


The Yami

by phoenixjustice



Series: Yin Yang [2]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M, The Dark part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/phoenixjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After end of S2/Beginning of S3.</p><p>They were both covered in blood; each others and their own, and he felt as if he were forgiven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Yami

He was a bitter man who spent too much time dwelling on what had happened long ago. Though not old in body, he felt the ages like a heavy weight on his shoulders that he could not lift away. Creating new identities for himself as time went on, having to make himself a new person again and again as ages past, looking no different then when he was nearly thirty.

He had seen famine wipe out countless people, starving children, men going to war for unjust causes, had seen theft, homelessness, and despair.

He had seen war destroy people, in mind and in body. Seeing boys barely old enough to start thinking of girls, going out to war, doing what they think is right.

He had seen the war for independence; seen people struggle against a tyranny that they no longer wished to be apart of, wishing to be free; He had fought on both sides for a time, wanting to see what both sides were truly fighting for. He understood the need for freedom, away from the shackles of something that held you down harder than steel.

This was after he had left Japan; he had stayed for years uncounted, watched from afar as an old and bent Yaeko visited the sakura blossoms every day. And he placed a sakura blossom on her grave when she died. He had still felt resentment, anger, sadness, and even envy as he looked down at her grave. Envy for what she had been able to have, and he had not; she had put her lips on his carp and kissed him.

Yes, his. Even if the rage and resentment, the betrayal, had blinded him to that truth that had been there the entire time, and he had never seen it.

After Yaeko's death, he left Japan for his native England for awhile, staying for centuries, but continuing to travel elsewhere, except for Japan, until the time of the revolution, meeting people along the way who were brilliant and interesting, and yes, even some of them had abilities and were 'heroes'.

Time continued to move on, and with it, showed a new technological age that he could only marvel at, feeling a bit in awe over the cycle of evolution; in things and in people.

All the while he thought of Hiro. Memories of him had never faded from his mind, if anything, they seemed to grow sharper as time went on, closer to the time that Nakamura, Hiro would be born. The Hiro who had shown up and told him that he was a hero, the Hiro who had shown him that he could be a hero, the Hiro who he watched from afar, not realizing what the confliction in his heart was trying to speak to him.

The Hiro who had captured his heart, and had torn it in two, leaving him feeling betrayed, and also numb; very, very numb; The rage was there, spewing its words as he had looked at Hiro inside of the tent in White Beard's camp, part of him aching to reach out to Hiro but the anger overriding everything else.

He hadn't been in the room when Hiro had been born, too busy working with his own set of heroes, people who had in the beginning, been lost and needed a hand to guide them, show them how to become heroes. Maybe he could tell Hiro of this later, when it truly mattered. He heard a door open across his office of their Company and looks up to see Kaito talking to Patricia, Parkman and Angela.

'It is a boy; we are calling him Hiro.'

And it was just like that; the thoughts that had never truly left his mind but had been put back away for his own sanity, had come back to the forefront and that crazed feeling went inside of him again. Hiro.

It was then that he thought of the virus that they had just created; he could use it and cleanse the human race, make it better. And then he could save those that was left and be a hero. He would show Hiro that he could be a hero and be worthy of the namesake that had instead went to Hiro, becoming Kensei, Takezo in his stead.

Then before he could do anything, he gets confined, by people who pretended to have the safety of everyone at heart. They were all liars; except for Kaito, the only one who truly wished to protect everyone from the virus. The rest were all greedy, ego-driven and hungry for more power.

He had talked with Kaito few times in that period, the man clearly wanting to stay away from him. He never told the man how much he knew of his little Hiro; although the soon-to-be time-traveler had come through the office a few times, he had been confined, but he always made sure to look through his slit of a door to see him. Watching how much he grew each time he looked at him.

The last time he saw Hiro during that period, the young boy had been walking through the hallway with his father and Linderman. As they come closer, he feels himself straining to get a better look at the young boy who would soon become the man who he would get betrayed by, and fall in love with. Suddenly Hiro's eyes move up and their eyes lock. He felt his eyes widen and something in his heart twinges as the boy smiles and walks on.

The emotions come flooding back from the tide of numbness, after only being able to feel rage at Hiro for so long, he had forgotten how to feel so much more. The onslaught of feelings overwhelmed him and he cried for the first time since Hiro had left White Beard's camp, leaving him to die.

He felt regret and remorse, and love, such love for him that the tears did not stop falling until he finally manages to curl himself up on his mattress and fall asleep.

During this time, various members of the Company would visit him. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they wouldn't. More often than not, they were silent. Not needing to speak or hear him speak when they had Parkman around.

It was Parkman they had enter his room one night.

He and Parkman lock eyes and he tries unsuccessfully to push back his thoughts from the man and sees the man's eyes widen minutely from one of his thoughts, he wasn't sure which one. But many had to do with Hiro, so it must have been that. Parkman abruptly left the room, leaving him to sit on his bed in confusion, absently rubbing at the back of his neck and jerking his head up in surprise as the room opens once more.

This time it was Parkman accompanied by Angela Petrelli and Linderman.

'You're going to do something for us,' said Angela suddenly. 'Something that you've wanted to do for awhile now; we…regrettably see that there doesn't seem to be an alternative. So we want you to release the virus.'

He felt himself grow cold. _Now_ they wanted him to release the virus? He felt a bubble of caustic laughter come out his throat. How rich! They wanted him to do it now when he no longer had the mind or will to. He did not want to destroy the world that had a hopeful little boy who idolized a sword-saint for being a hero. He wanted to change things; if he could change them, then perhaps he could be given another chance.

He wanted to be that hero for the boy who was learning of him, and he wanted to be a hero for the man he would become, wanting nothing more than his respect, faith, and love again. If love had ever been there for him…

He shakes his head. 'Doing that will only place everyone together to revolt against you; you don't see that? It took me over four hundred years to finally learn what I should have long ago, and you want me to wipe out millions of lives for your own sakes? You've got to be joking.'

Angela's face was as expressionless as ever, except maybe for a tint of hatred in her eyes, rebelling once more against the man who helped her discover what she could do, and in doing so, he must have reaped what he sowed.

'They won't know anything of our involvement; you will be our…front man, for lack of a better word. We only want what's best for the human race as a whole, and this cleansing will give it to us, letting us control what we should have from the beginning; we are special, we have abilities that they do not, and because of that, these blind, hopeless fools will learn from us and we will create a better society, all for the greater good.'

He wondered if he had sounded that bad when he had talked about it the first time.

'And I tell you that I won't do it!' He stands up, feeling in that moment that he truly was the sword-saint that Hiro read of, the person that he could have been, should have been, if he hadn't let the anger and betrayal get in the way. 'You will not use me for your scapegoat, Angela. None of you; I found all of you; I showed you who you could be. I never told you to do something like this.'

'But you thought about it,' said Linderman. 'And you told us about it eventually; why the sudden change of heart? All because of one little boy…why I'm touched. And we don't need your consent, we already have it." He turns to look at Parkman who walks forward in that moment.

He felt his limbs grow cold and he couldn't move, no doubt Angela's doing. All he could do was look as Parkman walked closer; grinning maniacally and suddenly he felt his mind open and the all encompassing thought that was getting drilled into his head. He screams as the thought gets buried deeper and deeper, blood running down his face until he felt blinded by it all.

'CARP!'

His mind was hazy after that. He went through the motions of his actions, and feels it clear one day, not knowing how many years had passed, when he hears a man on the other side of the wall.

Then; freedom, after meeting Peter Petrelli; his thought before this time and after he meets Peter were very hazy and he could do things but some things seemed to go on auto-pilot, driving him on, onward to get the virus, release the virus. When he could retreat from this driven self, he could think of Hiro, wonder if he was all grown up now, the way he remembered him from so many years before.

He goes through the motions as he and Peter try and learn where the virus' whereabouts were, seeing himself kill Patricia, but not really feeling it, until he felt his blood and seemed to come to himself a bit.

But the true awakening moment for him, the closest he had been in many years had been when he had seen Hiro on the ground, after having been frozen in time for moments. He looked better than his infallible memory had remembered. He felt as if he was locked in time again after seeing Hiro, feeling that swell of emotion hit quite hard, until he gets locked away from himself and grabs onto his—their—sword and goes the other way with Peter, part of him having been forcibly determined to release the virus at all costs, while the other part of him was crying out to go back.

He continued forward.

But this had been the first time in awhile he felt any real semblance of actual control of his body after it had been altered by Parkman. Hiro appeared again and he leaves Peter with him, managing to at least leave the room so he couldn't see Peter hurting his carp.

He found the virus and takes a breath, feeling himself for a moment, and then getting surprised by Hiro as he appears in the room. Now that the virus was in his hands, he felt the itching intensify, wanting to release it then, knowing that it couldn't hurt himself. But this time he felt like he could fight against this thought, this self that he had stopped being but had been forced to be again, fighting against releasing it then, talking to Hiro all the while, and finally managing to hold on long enough until Hiro grabs onto him and teleports them out of there.

He felt sorry as he felt the vial leave his hands, but he couldn't stop it, and felt relief that no matter what would happen, Hiro would be away from it.

He hadn't expected to be in Japan when he opened his eyes or that because of him finally doing what Parkman, Angela, Linderman and the others had wanted him to do, the thought left him and he gasps for air against the sudden whoosh that comes out of him.

He tries to speak to Hiro after that split second moment, but sees Hiro looking at him with a feeling of regret and finds himself frozen, Hiro having frozen time, and when he finally gets unfrozen from time, he finds himself in a coffin buried six feet under the ground.

He screams for his carp, his Hiro, but he heard no answer or relief.

"LET ME OUT! CARP! CARP! KOI! CARP! LET ME OUT!" The word love left his lips and it continued to do so, mingled with that of his carp and his terror at finding himself suddenly confined when he had finally been freed of the hateful thoughts that had been plaguing him for over four hundred years and again for nearly thirty years.

He had become the Kensei that Hiro had wanted all along, and instead was now locked away in a confining space of wood, buried under dirt, attempting to claw his way out of the grave with no success. Blood spurts out of his hands from the deep punctures and cuts, only to regenerate themselves a moment later. The air gets sucked out of his lungs which continually renew themselves, dying again and again from lack of air, only to keep coming back, his heart still beating all the while.

He screamed himself hoarse and started up again when he regained his voice. It took awhile for him to stop, unable to keep on, not from lack of strength in body, but of mind. Regret foremost in the mind of one who had time to dwell on lost hopes and dreams.

He wept.

Days must have passed in succession. He only screamed a little now, sure that no one could hear him so deeply under the ground, but determined to try for a little while longer anyway.

He wanted nothing more than to pour out the apologies to Hiro that his carp should have gotten long ago; but now he wouldn't ever get that chance again.

He lets sleep take him under, wishing he could just stay asleep, because he could not die, but at least he could get a respite from the pain.

He let himself pretend that dirt was being dug up and that he could hear frantic voices up above him. Maybe he could make the voice Hiro's, he could remember his voice so vividly…Yes, definitely…Hiro…

He falls under.

He felt hands wipe at his own tenderly as his eyes open themselves up. He looks down at the hands which were cleaning off his of the dried blood and looks up in confusion and a little bit of hope; he knew whose those hands were as much as he knew the person; he knew everything about him.

"How are you feeling, Kensei?" asked Hiro softly.

He felt a lump against his throat and tried to swallow against it, unable to believe what his very good eyesight was trying to present him. If this was a dream that he was in, then when he woke up he would kill himself; he could not take this pain any longer.

But it seemed so very real, the surroundings looking unfamiliar to him, lying on a large bed instead of a satin lined coffin. And even more so that was different and which seemed the most real, was Hiro himself. He even pushed up his glasses as he leans down looking at him, a habit which he had noticed from the time-traveler early on after meeting him.

Had he truly been called Kensei by Hiro? What did that mean? He had heard the slip from Hiro when they had been conversing and fighting in the facility in Odessa, but he hadn't said the name like he just did, the same way he had done so long ago, in the beginning anyway. No…Hiro had just been calling him Adam. Adam Monroe was his moniker in this age, though his name had been different when he had been born so long ago, a name which was of no concern now.

He reaches a hand up to touch Hiro's face. He nearly gasps at the contact; he had still half expected for this to be a dream and that Hiro would just fade away within his grasp.

"Sorry," he murmurs, looking up into Hiro's eyes, seeing Hiro's own filled with sorrow, remorse and other emotions he couldn't, and dared not, name. "I'm so sorry; Hiro."

"But I…I know all of what happened to you, Kensei." said Hiro remorsefully. "Now I do. I didn't when I put you in that coffin, but I do now! I didn't want to do it, but it was the only solution I could see without…" Without killing me, Adam-Kensei thought.

"I'm so sorry, carp." He moves his hand from caressing Hiro's cheek to his neck, pulling him down, surprised at how little resistance the man gave. He pulls the man to his side and looks at him, reveling in his freedom from his confinement and at being able to hold Hiro, with his carp not seeming to mind. He moves closer to Hiro, seeing Hiro's eyes widen minutely, grabbing onto the glasses on his face and tossing them aside. "Koi…"

His eyes close as he leans over and kisses him.

If this was a dream, then he wished to never wake up. Let him have an illusion if he must.

But this felt more real than anything else than he could remember.

"Ai shiteru, little carp; more than anything."

"Ai shiteru, Kensei; for so long that I didn't even know. "

He kisses Hiro again and for the first time in over four hundred years of existence, he felt truly happy.

Eyes open up and look around frightfully.

Darkness enveloped his surroundings and himself; he was still locked deep under the ground.

Everything had only been a dream.

Something inside of him seems to break.

Minutes, hours, days passed and he found himself in a kind of numb silence; he could not speak, or even make the effort to move around any more. Atrophy set in, but continually gets washed away by the tide of regeneration.

His mind replays everything over and over in his mind and tears would fall unnoticed from his eyes, drying on his face and skin. He just stared up into the darkness until he couldn't hold his eyes open anymore and had to sleep.

Sleep had become its own form of torture to him.

Dreams enveloped him every time he went to sleep; dreams of Hiro and the things he could have done, the things he had not seen that seemed so obvious now. Things that were too late in noticing.

The dreams held the promise of redemption, and quickly crushed him again and again everytime he awoke to the overwhelming darkness.

Sometimes he kept on weeping silently until sleep finally takes his exhausted state with it.

One day, he didn't know how long had passed, he finds himself moving his arms up and starts to pound on the coffin, beating on the wood until the wood splintered into his skin, until blood ran down in little rivulets from his hands, regenerating again and again, blood spilling again and again, and he screams louder and louder, tears of rage and sadness spilling from his eyes against his will, sure that he hadn't been able to cry anymore.

He finally stops, with dried blood on his hands, arms and clothes and wished he could die.

The next time he awakens, he finds himself lying on something wet. He opens his eyes and looks up to see dark storm clouds, rain which pours down and falls onto his face, and a worried looking Nakamura, Hiro looking at him.

He hadn't just been asleep sometime earlier; he had also been frozen in time.

All he could do for a moment was to stare at the man who had been his inspiration, the person he loved, and was also the person who betrayed him, who had been the one to stick him in a coffin, leaving him to rot—but not to die.

Because he couldn't die, and Hiro had used that to his advantage; the fact that Hiro had spared him death did not enter his mind then.

With a flash of lightning and a roar of thunder, something in Kensei, Takezo—Monroe, Adam, seems to push itself back together again and he lunges up.

"Kensei—"

He pushes up, finding nothing wrong with his limbs as he pushes Hiro onto the wet and slightly muddy ground, right atop the very gravesite where he had been left to…something.

The rain continued to pour in a steady stream and was relentless in its pursuit of drenching everything around it could.

His thoughts were jumbled up and all he wanted to do was to fly in rage at Hiro for abandoning him, especially when he had reformed himself and had found himself again for the time-traveler, and to weep; the man having returned for him, so he had to feel something for him!

But these thoughts were in the back of his mind and his limbs were moving faster than his brain could comprehend or to tell him to continue on, or to stop; He moves himself on top of Hiro, ignoring the exclamation and grabs onto the man's clothes harshly, the fabric of Hiro's shirt ripping down the middle in his hands.

He moves his head down suddenly and kisses Hiro harshly; hearing the man's protest as he kissed him forcibly. He pulls away and starts to pull on Hiro's pants, ignoring the repeated exclamations from him and grabs onto the man's hands as he tries to push him away.

"Stop! Kensei, stop! Stop! Please!"

He couldn't listen to the cries; they seemed to be as far away from him as he himself was from his own body. His cock was throbbing insistently on the inside of his pants, pressing up against the fabric, feeling so hard that he was ready to burst with it.

He fumbles with his own zipper as he finally manages to pull down the pants from the resisting man's body. He pulls his erection free of its restraints and pulls on it a few times, almost groaning at the feeling. He looks down to see Hiro looking at him, and at it, with fear in his eyes.

"No; not like thi—"

He moves his legs on top of Hiro's, to keep him from trying to move away and positions himself. With one quick thrust he finds himself sheathed in Hiro, groaning in pleasure at the same time the time-traveler cries out in pain. But he couldn't stop. It felt so damn good, and it had been so long since had had been with anyone. And this was _Hiro_ ; he had waited so damned long and he couldn't stop now.

Part of him was horrified while the other part that was dominating his mind was crying out to the world in the pleasure of it all.

He moved at a brutal pace, his cock getting squeezed by Hiro's tight entrance and grabs onto the man. Blood was leaking out of the man beneath him and that only served to make his thrusts slicker, letting him move even faster into the sobbing man.

He holds onto Hiro's arms, feeling the man's nails digging into his skin and drawing blood, but that only spurred him on more. He kisses Hiro hard, biting down on the man's lip, licking at the blood from the man's mouth.

He feels surprise when he feels a tentative kiss back from Hiro. It seems to bring something out in him and he felt his head clearing somewhat.

"I can't—stop, koi," he gasped, not sure if he was speaking to Hiro or to himself.

"Ai shiteru, Kensei." Hiro whispers.

"Ai shiteru too, Hiro; more than anything." Had that been said aloud as well?

His hips jerk and he cries out loudly to the world, coming hard inside of Hiro, cock spurting his seed deep inside, giving him the biggest climax that he had ever experienced.

He sobs, moving his slightly flagging cock out of his carp, kissing the man clumsily a few times, feeling the man's hands wrapped around him slowly, tentatively.

They were both covered in blood; each others and their own, and he felt as if he were forgiven.

 


End file.
